No More
by LOinOP
Summary: "You, Mistoffelees, are a vessel through which all the promise of preeminent power flows. Everything you could possibly want is within your grasp should you choose to pursue it. Now that vessel is complete. You've matured- though only slightly- and now your power is fresh and versatile and mighty. And extremely vulnerable... I'm here, my dear Mistoffelees, to harvest you."


**I've been having problems with my narrative as of late (as in my 3rd POV is sounding veeeery lame in my head) so I've given my old pal 1st POV a little time out in the sunshine and wrote this up. It's a bit dark but I hope you guys like it :3 Lemme know how I did so maybe I can work it into my bigger story for your reading pleasure!**

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My breath comes in short easy huffs as I plow through the darkness of my junkyard home, the power in my stride fuelled by the screams of my friends and family. And I'd be lying if the snarling grunts and occasional mangled shrieks of the beast currently breathing down my back wasn't motivation as well.

Progressively my surroundings grow lighter, clearer, redder. Up ahead a hot demonic glow of red peeks through the cracks of the scrap lining my path; the light seeping up from the insides of the stacks of junk and clawing through to theatrically illuminate my imminent death in a damning- yet flattering- fiery light.

A creature I have never seen before snorts hellish breath down the length of my spine as it somehow manages to match my strides and remain inches from my shoulder at all times. I may be fast but I'm definitely not consistent- why hadn't it caught me yet, this is absurd. Well... not that I'm necessarily complaining.

The screams grow closer; the centre of the junkyard isn't but a dozen yards away, though I don't know what I expect to happen once I reach it.

_Damn it, Mistoffelees, you're going to lead this thing right into a crowd of Jellicles! _

I stomp my heel into the dirt and make for a right, redirecting us away from the clearing: I would hate for my last act to kill everyone who could vouch for my amazing deeds post-mortem. The thing veers right just as quickly and I'm sure we both see the hood of the TSE poking out of the rubbish at the very last moment before my hip catches the headbeam. My momentum whirls me backwards and yanks me to the ground where the bumper breaks my fall by lovingly cushioning my shoulder like an iron pole across the back.

My arms fly up to my head the moment I hit the ground as the creature is presented with a scrumptious bony Jellicle on a platter. Medium-rare. Maybe if I piss myself the meal will spoil.

Nothing happens. Soon I'm growing impatient for my demise. Before long I'm about ready to jump into its jowls and get this torture over with, whipping my arms from over my eyes to take in the horrendous and unholy sight of... _nothing_.

I scramble to my feet and search the red spotlights for something, I don't know, big and scary? Something as big as that thing sounded couldn't really hide in a space designed by and for notoriously small Jellicles. But there isn't a soul.

Behind me is the sound of tearing metal splits the air, throwing daggers at my ears that yanks a scream from the back of my throat. I curl to the ground in a wash of blood red light exploding from the eyes of the TSE. The light burns through my fur and ignites my skin. I moan lowly under the high twang of bees in my ears, begging my legs to pick me up.

"Oh, well, I never was there eeeever..." a voice sings out behind me beyond the body of the car. I hold my hip as I struggle to my feet and climb up onto the hood of the TSE. Through the front window I can peer through the back of the car and into the clearing. I can't see much except for a body draped limply against the glass, though I can also see into the rear compartment through the gutted backseat where a handful of Jellicles cower, their bodies pressed to the floor.

"... a cat so _clever_..."

I climb up onto the roof squirming forward on my belly._ That voice..._

"As Magical..."

It's so smooth, flowing through the air and into my being like a bowl of warm milk and honey. It sparks the giddy memory of floating gracefully to the ground on an impossibly thin rope, my tribe awaiting my grand reveal with open arms. But this voice isn't quite the same as Rum Tum Tugger. My ears pick up the faintest sounds of sobbing.

I can see the head of whomever's lying on the boot of the TSE, their fur sticky with sweat and matted in odd places.

"...Mister..."

Reaching for them I push my fingers into their fur. The memory of Grizabella coming close, reaching for my help, and a strong protective paw pushes me back. I see Munkustrap's face and his stony green eyes.

_No._

"MISTOFFELEES!"

I pull my paw back to find my white furred fingers covered in blood and meaty flecks of grey. _But who.._. Dear Bast I remember now!

I stand up to my full height and leap onto the trunk of the car next to the lifeless Jellicle. "MACAVITY!"

From behind I'm thrust forward several feet into the chaos and I land chest first into the dry dirt where the rest of me awkwardly accordions into my shoulder. A quick string of mumbled words bubble past my lips and the pain lining the edges of my vision vanish. Paws grapple me and pull me to my feet where I join the ranks of just a few of my Jellicle peers.

"Wondering when you were going to come save the day again," Macavity purrs, head cocking to the side with a violent tick that knocks a bead of coppery liquid from the corner of his lip. He laughs with peculiar enjoyment. "I thought that perhaps you'd have grown since last I saw you, but that's just part of your charm isn't it? Never know what to expect!"

I'm quick to orient myself; Macavity stands atop the grand tire stage but I can barely see him for the sight of Deuteronomy wedged between two rats the size of pollicles behind him, a straight edge barely pressing into his neck. It reminds me of the cat on the car, but before I can will myself not to look I'm choking back a sob when my wide eyes take in the sight of our dear Skimbleshanks pinned to the car by a shard of steel through the skull.

A paw wraps around my waist and another gently holds back the cry rattling out my chest. I barely hear Victoria's voice as she gently urges me to keep quiet and pulls me to the back of the pack. "Ooh no no nononoo!" Macavity chortles and curls an unkempt claw to beckon me forward. The pit of my chest jerks my body free of her arms and again I find myself being torn through space. "We have a show to perform, he and I."

Screaming I'm ripped from my pack, torn from the safety of my tribe to face the Devil incarnate alone. A firm paw grabs my arm above the elbow and insistently pulls me back. Fingers dig painfully into the meat of my arm but that's okay because I've stopped moving and right now there isn't anything I want more than to be as far away from the deranged crime lord as physically possible. "We have rules against using magic here, Macavity." _Munkustrap!_

"Oh trust me, brother, this will be well worth breaking Daddy's rules."

His smile is one I'm sure will haunt me until the end of time.

The pull on my body eases and I take the opportunity to whirl my body around and fasten every muscle I possibly can to my anchor. "Please," I whisper from fear of sounding as kittenish and pathetic as I feel, my arms locking around his back and fastening my claws in flesh for measure. He flinches but it barely shows. Munkustrap assures me by vicing his own arm around my body unaware or uncaring of how it may look. "Don't let him take me!"

"I won't," he murmurs back, eyes fixed on the fiery devil atop his throne. I manage a faint nod and try to believe that Munkustrap's mortal strength can hold a candle to Macavity's lunatic power.

Macavity cackles and hollers and I can feel Munkustrap's body jerk and struggle for resolve before Deuteronomy's screams reach me. "M-m... Mistoffelees... help!" It takes some prodding from Macavity and the rats but soon enough Deuteronomy's pleading for me, using a power he can't fully understand himself.

"Can you feel it, Mistoffelees?" Macavity taunts, eliciting another pathetic scream from our beloved leader. _Yes, yes I can. _It started as a warmth at the base of my throat that spread into a white-hot fire across my body, energizing me from heat to tail-tip. "Can you feel your promise and oath to protect this tom- this _tribe_, pull you forward? You may cower in the arms of your Protector but he is merely flesh and bone... he can't negotiate an eternal contract like the one you've found yourself entangled in."

Quaking I push aside my basic need. Never could I imagine Macavity- such a deplorable creature but still of my own kind- exploit such a crucial aspect of our basic survival. My promise, which binds me securely to the Jellicles in the vow to protect them with every ounce of my omnipotent power, is the only grounding thread keeping me from becoming just like _him_. If I let the Jellicles die- if I let my contract go void- then I will be forever damned.

I refuse to acknowledge Macavity and his sadistic jabs. Instead I focus on Munkustrap's rhythmic heartbeat and Victoria's gentle paw on mine behind Munkustrap's back.

In a microsecond I hear the raspy cry of my leader, the taunting laugh of the rat torturing him, and my own voice demanding "Stop!" with my hand stretched out before me. Everything flew through my mind so quickly I hardly noticed the satisfying pinpricks of magic coursing out the tips of my fingers until not one but both rats collapse to the ground before our eyes. Smoke billows up from their corpses and gives off a pungent singed-fecal scent.

Munkustrap and I are both holding our breath as Deuteronomy collapses under their weight, but he's alright and I reassure my Protector with a gentle pat on the back.

Macavity casually turns to his accomplices, shrugs, and then back to me with a scoff. "That trick again? You really haven't changed at all these past two years." His smile darkens and his eyes flash with an impending attack. "I have!"

I sense the onslaught before the others can see it; with my free hand I shove Munkustrap back into Victoria and the Jellicles and run a few steps forward to meet what has been cast. There isn't enough time to conjure a defence before I'm hit in the face with a ruthless wall of fire.

My fur singes instantly and I'm faced with the excruciating sensation of my skin melting and frying up to a fine pain! Blackness rocks my vision and logic evaporates in the flames engulfing my slight body; leaving me helpless to my primal instincts to... just burn, I guess. There really isn't a natural instinctive response to being on fire. Or I don't have it.

Screams claw up my throat and rise over the roar of the flames, though I'd imagine not very far. I fall to my knees and double over as the sound of flapping grows near.

_SMACK_. I'm hit in the back by something cool and refreshingly smooth though it still felt like being bludgeoned by a spiked mallet. A different shade of red tinted the black semi-consciousness- the red of the tarp I use in many of my tricks- including Deuteronomy's rescue that night at the Jellicle Ball. It cocoons me and smothers the fire instantly, slipping cool streams of silk over my burnt and bleeding flesh.

Screams turned to sobs of relief which turned to slurred healing incantations. Beyond the protective layer of fabric muffled hysteria broke loose; Macavity wasn't limiting himself to scare tactics anymore. Uh oh.

"Isn't this fun?!" Macavity shrieked with a healthy kick to my restored ribs. Beneath his foot the blanket squirmed and writhed as if possessed (by something other than my magic, of course). It's gentle fabric coiled tight around my waist, chest and neck, filling out into a thick body that would soon develop the always charming and beloved head of a snake. "But don't worry, the show has only begun."

"Mistoffelees, no!" I hear Victoria scream, far away from danger in the safety of Plato's arms.

"Mistoffelees, yes!" Macavity mocks shrilly. "Mistoffelees, indeed! Indeed you are something to marvel at; I can honestly say I'm your biggest fan." With the graces of a true gentleman he reaches up and cups my cheek with one of his fetid paws, tracing the lines of my mouth with the pad of his thumb. Don't mistake my pathetic wheezing for amazement or arousal; I know it's sometimes hard to distinguish but the purpling of the face is usually the tip-off to strangulation.

"Ever since you thwarted me some years ago I've had something of a fascination with the 'Original Conjuring Cat'. I could have slaughtered you right then and there, the scrawny little maggot you were; but I restrained myself with the promise of swatting you once you'd grown into a beautiful fly. A beautifully infuriating fly with something of an ego complex."

_I _have the complex apparently.

"Do you know why I'm here today, Mistoffelees?"

"You're... he-re to sw-swat a... fly?"

Macavity frowns momentarily. Reaching up he pats the snake's head as any normal cat would a kitten and its hold around my neck gives a little. Thank Bastet for small favours. "Perhaps fly was the wrong word. You, Mistoffelees, are a vessel through which all the promise of preeminent power flows. Everything you could possibly want is within your grasp should you choose to pursue it.

"Now that vessel is complete. You've matured- though only slightly- and now your power is fresh and versatile and mighty. And extremely _vulnerable_."

I clear my throat to speak finding it wonderfully melodious and tuned without a wrinkle of pain or fear; "You're here to recruit me-"

"I'm here, my dear Mistoffelees, to harvest you."

Well, I certainly didn't see that coming. My stomach twists and drops sickeningly, making me wish I hadn't splurged on that second mouse for dinner. "Y-you can't harvest me!" my voice comes out as a pitiful scaredy-cat yelp, lending insult to Macavity's admiration.

Macavity grins as his paw slid from the snake's neck, letting it slide gently down the length of its gray and amber scaled body. More than a couple voices shrieked at the sight of the venomous thing. "Since I was your age I've travelled the whole of Europe and the vast majority of Asia, never once reducing myself to a mere servant by way of imprinting myself to anyone or anyplace. My loyalty was to myself and my studies in the darker magics, but as you know, that lifestyle is unsustainable at best.

"Then I discovered a way to keep my vagrant lifestyle by stealing the strong, directed, barely matured life-drive from my unfortunate brethren. Their blind devotion to anything their naive minds can grasp makes them obsessed, desperate, but it gives them purpose and vigor. I've learned to break their spirit by taking away the object of their universe and take all that raw potential for myself. So far you're the only of our confreres to actually make it... _fun_. "

"You are no kith of mine!" _Think Mistoffelees; what can we throw at him?! _I wish I had spent more time tuning my defence spells than my card tricks and pirouettes.

"We are cut from the same cloth-"

One you have tarnished with your shame and the blood of _my _kind!"

"Well," he smiles and pinches my chin between his split claws, "That'll soon be the least of your problems."

_Fire_! Macavity's strong but he's a pyromaniac at the core.

The moment his claw breaks the skin just under my chin I take a gulp of air and focus on wet things. Like rain and... and rat guts. Around me the snake's body pulls tight in a spasm of panic, I can hear its screeching hiss and Macavity cursing before they're drowned out by a layer of freestanding water pooling around us, encasing the snake, Macavity, and I in something not dissimilar to a giant snow globe.

Crushing my ribs in its fright, the serpent writhes and wriggles for freedom but to no avail. My chests groans until there's a small _Pop _before the snake's body grows slack, leaving my muscles buzzing with revived circulation. I chance a peek and spot the silky red ribbon of my magician's tarp floating lackadaisically by my face. Macavity is nowhere to be seen-

Like a sledge hammer to the back I'm knocked free of my cocoon and tumble awkwardly to the now bone-dry ground. I writhe onto my back and flick my wrist to throw my water balloon into his sopping body, buying me some more time to think.

The Jellicles are in panic, screaming and running for cover while Macavity's momentarily preoccupied; out the corner of my eye I see Munkustrap darting through an ebbing fog to Deuteronomy's side, stopping short with a double-take to help pull open the trunk of the TSE to help Tugger, Jenny, and a handful of kittens crawl out to escape. Tugger glances my way with wide eyes and the kittens Etcetera and Jemima under his arms.

"Go!" Munkustrap bellows, a faint mumble under the screeching chaos. They separate and run off into obscurity when I appreciate the growing fog and Macavity's sudden absence. _Uh oh_.

"Misto? Mistoffelees!?" That voice- _Victoria_! She's close. Too close.

I scramble to my hands and knees, flinging my arms into the white wall; "Vicky- Vicky run! Go, get away from here!"

"I'm not leaving you, Misto."

A gravelly, demonic chuckle rumbles through the fog. I can sense her a few feet away, and I can hear him just beyond. I feel the lick of his lips as he preys on her, watching her struggle through the blind to find me and utterly helpless to what she's gotten in the middle of. The clearing quiets down in moments, most of the Jellicles seeking refuge in town.

I crawl towards her faster, following her presence in the mist until my fingers finally graze her leg and I yank her to the ground beside me. "Oh, Misto!"

We embrace a moment, that stuttering growl rolling down my spine. "I love you, Vicky, but you have to go _now_-"

"I'm not leaving you- I can't let you die!" she sobs. Macavity's absurd figure is visible through the thinning space between us.

Pulling away I cradle the back of her head and whisper into her ear: "Don't cry. Just sleep." I plant a soft kiss on her cheek as her skulls falls back heavily into my hand, her slim body relaxing into my arms, her face growing blissfully peaceful. I yank us both to my feet and hastily grab a wrist and an ankle to toss her body deep into the fog.

Now I'm really alone.

"I'm curious to know, Mistoffelees," my knees grow weak beneath me until I can no longer stand. A paw caresses the back of my head, "what you were planning on doing with your life here with these imbeciles."

His fingers trail down to the bottom of my neck before curling around to rest on my chest. "I..." Lightly claws anchor into the skin over my heart, another paw cups the base of my skull and tilts my head back until I'm left staring at Macavity in what will undoubtedly be my final moments. "I was..."

A howl rips up from my chest straight into Macavity hovering eagerly over me. Odd, I feel no pain. The howl morphs, cracks open to a hidden shriek that feels unreal as it rips open my throat, obliterating my vocal chords like lava being poured into my esophagus. The pain finally crashes over me as my heart cramps and quivers, bouncing and knocking against my chest as if it too will come shooting out my mouth. I'm almost certain Macavity would giggle like a queenkit should I treat him to such a sight.

Daggers run up the length of my body, following the path of my screams to my throat until the faintest of green smokes passed my gaping jaw. I watch in horror as Macavity bends down low, resting his lips just over mine and gasps it up like his life depended on it.

Oh, Everlasting Cat! This is the harvest!

The smoke comes out faster as Macavity milks me for all I've got; my pull in to my lungs turning my body inside out by the second and Oh Bastet I don't want to die, not like this!

I blink against the pain and weakness and glance over my murderer's shoulder, trying to block out his lips on mine and his hands being the last touch I will ever know. And then I see it.

"GRAAA!" A body stumbles from the mist and plows into Macavity before I have the chance to figure who. Three bodies tumble forward onto the ground, two landing on me. Somewhere in the ensuing battle I manage to peel my face from the junkyard floor and shimmy out from under Macavity and his attacker. A voice that isn't Macavity screams with a bloody gurgle.

_Munkustrap! _

A twitch of my nose and the fog lifts the curtain obscuring the Napoleon of Crime and his match revealing not a pair of warring brothers but Macavity throwing a punch into a gaping hollowed out skull. His fist flies through it which gives the brainless monster the advantage to knock Macavity's feet out from under him and send him crashing to the ground. The intact part of my saviour's face is as recognizable to me as my own: Skimbleshanks.

I want to vomit with the shame of what I had done to my dear friend's corpse; reanimating a torn up tom to save my own hide. Way to go Mistoffelees.

Victoria sleeps peacefully a few yards away but she's more or less safe for now. I turn my attention back to Skimbleshanks to see his re-dead body slump to the ground, chest gutted with his heart bulging out and no longer beating.

Macavity launches bloody spittle down on the Railway Cat and turns again to me; the look on his face suggests he's through playing with me. I put up my sparking paws as a threat, ready to- actually I don't know. Fatigue taxed from Skimbleshank's revival keeps my brain two steps behind and makes even the thought of casting a hex or tossing a jolt of electricity at him sound impossible.

With nothing left but to run I begin to stumble back to the edge of the clearing, everything hurting from an impotent healing spell. In the distance I spot Munkustrap bounding soundlessly from the tire; leaving the breathless Deuteronomy to stand by the two dead rats at their feet. I try not to look surprised when he produces a steel metal pipe and marches toward us, his murderous gaze fixed on the ginger cat.

"Where are you going, Misto?" Macavity sneers in sing-song, stalking towards me with glowing black coals for eyes. He's holding his shoulder but even with one arm he could finish me off in just a few measly blows. "Nowhere to run no-ow."

Munkustrap reaches him in record time and wails the pipe over his head with a ferocity that makes my stomach turn. From the tire Deuteronomy wails for his sons' final duel: at this point only one of them can walk away with their lives as I don't suppose Macavity is feeling especially forgiving.

Macavity falls to the ground and Munkustrap jumps him, sitting on his chest and reaching up with manic hands to throttle him.

"NO MORE!" our Protector roars as he rams his clenched fist into Macavity's face, each blow erupting in a spray of blood and a muffled grunt from both toms. Munkustrap's rage blinds him to his brother's paw reaching beside them for the steel pipe.

My body feet bolt before I decide how I'm actually going to intervene-

I fall to the ground, throwing Munkustrap off the side as Macavity's swing connects with my shoulder when I stepped between his weapon and Munkustrap's head.

Munkustrap lands at my side but unlike me he bounds up without a beat and disappears to tend to Macavity, who's groaning and coughing but doesn't sound near dead enough for mine and Munkustrap's taste.

I sigh with relief when Macavity's groans quiet under the meaty _smack _of Munkustrap's fists beating his face and head into a pulp. Sleep tickles the edges of my consciousness and it takes what strength I have left to fight it off. I want to see this monster take his last breath. I want to be the first to congratulate Munkustrap when he avenges his uncle's death and absolves the world of this tyrannical beast.

Tugger melts into view from one of the paths leading towards the emergency exits, his eyes fixated on his brothers in the dirt as he watches on in accepting silence. His gaze flicker to me then to Victoria before falling again on his brothers. I watch his eyes bulge when Munkustrap releases the ginger cat, his rage ebbing away with the blood flowing from his split knuckles. "No more," he murmurs one last time with a final kick to the ribs.

The silence between Deuteronomy's miserable moans is heavy with allegations of 'killer' 'murderer' and 'fratricide' but there's too much relief to focus on anything beyond 'saviour'. "Are you alright, Mistoffelees?"

"I'm alive," I reply when strong killer's paws pull me to my feet, warm, comforting, and bloody. "Are you not hurt?"

Munkustrap offers me a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes; I'm guessing it's meant to comfort me though it only makes me feel even more tired. His face is flecked with Macavity's blood. "I'm alive," he repeats hollowly.

He's bloody and smells horrid from rolling around on filth but I throw my arms around him anyway and crush him to my chest to the point where my hastily mended ribs groan in protest. Hesitantly, as if he's scared of harming me too, Munkustrap hugs his arms around me and lets me squeeze the air out of his lungs without protest. It's difficult consolidating this gentle leader- a cat with boundless patience and the temper of a plush rock- with the merciless killer I had had the misfortune of witnessing.

The sound of footsteps draw near; Tugger looking for reassurance. It's unfortunate that he's left Deuteronomy alone to mourn for his sons.

At the sound of his brother's approach Munkustrap turns.

I hear a curt _shwick _and Munkustrap's head whips back around to me; blood pouring down his neck and chest in torrents. "I'm not done here."

"Macavity!" I cry a moment before Munkustrap tumbles into my arms, hands fumbling up to staunch the gash on his throat. He coughs blood into my face and crumples forward with nowhere to land but on me... and I'm nowhere near strong enough to keep him standing.

With a strained grunt I land hard on my back, Munkustrap's full weight crashing me down like a lead blanket. "Tugger!" I screech, my hands working out from a myriad of entangled limbs to hold back the deluge running over my face. Above us Macavity grins through the grotesque disfigurement of his pulverized eye and reaches down for Munkustrap. Plucking him by the scruff, Macavity uses his good arm to yank his silver furred brother from me.

"No- Rum Tum Tugger!" I wail again. Munkustrap gurgles by my ear and fists the fur at my waist, prompting me to cling to him like a vice.

With no progress for the waining Macavity's he turns to me and reaches for my head, bringing his face close to finish me off. I can already feel the tangy smoke of my life essence rising up to meet him. There's nowhere to run now and no corpses left for me to reanimate. I'm done as dinner.

Like a kitten I tuck my head into the sticky-warm curve of Munkustrap's neck, pressing my lips to the gouges and lapping at the wounds, now reduced to a light stream. "Keep them safe," I murmur, blowing the billowing wisps from my mouth into the cuts. My heart twists and jumps, struggling.

After a long moment the pull of Munkustrap's fingers in my fur becomes a gentle press; he nods faintly against my cheek. I almost cry at the smooth seamless stream of his cool breath through my fur, the steadying of his heartbeat against my floundering chest.

My body is numb, my brain even more so. Despite Munkustrap crushing me into the junkyard floor I feel myself lifting, floating, drifting up slowly past him, beyond Macavity.

It takes the sound of Munkustrap tumbling to the ground, limbs sprawled about him limply, to direct my attention... _down_.

Below me I see Macavity hovering over a wiry, gangly body- Everlasting, it's mine! I stare in shock as my body's eyes roll back and spasmodically arch as it gasps for breath, growling and screaming through clenched teeth. The head jerks from side to side before letting out a monstrous growl that bubbles into an enraged roar. I try to move my arm, praying that the bloody, writing mess below me is still my own.

But I don't have an arm to move.

"Get up," Macavity pants after a moment, pressing a paw to his split and bleeding eye. "We can't afford any more distractions."

Jerking, mechanically my zombified self awkwardly climbs to its feet, everything about it is wrong; the face hangs limply with its jaw agape like a slobbering pollicle, its spine- my spine- slumping under the weight of dead muscle despite my years of perfect posture. Not that it really matters anymore.

Macavity claps my- its- _our _shoulder and turns to Rum Tum Tugger and Deuteronomy on the tire. Tugger has taken Munkustrap's place crouched before the old patriarch, arms outstretched. Macavity seems to consider Rum Tum Tugger but then glances at Deuteronomy and Munkustrap and straightens with a dismissive shrug.

"Let us go," he says to the late Mistoffelees, grasping him by the shoulder. "Say goodbye, Mistoffelees."

Eyes rolling he gathers his jaw and wags it through a barely coherent "Goodbye" to Tugger and Deuteronomy before Macavity grabbs him and, with the total strength required to toss a rag doll, ripped the zombie Mistoffelees backwards to the ground. His limp arms sailed behind him as he dropped like a sack only to be absorbed into nothingness just inches from the ground. _Teleportation, how surprising_.

With a parting glance at Munkustrap splayed across the ground motionless, Macavity disappears in a cloud of smoke. It is only when Tugger and Deuteronomy rush to his side that he rolls over, bloody but mostly unharmed. Tugger's eyes bug out and he looks about ready to faint. "B-but how did- Mistoffelees, he-"

"Help me up, Tug."

After a moment Rum Tum Tugger grabs his brother from under the arms and carefully sets the tabby on his feet, making a point of not letting go until the blood-soaked tom had taken a few careful steps towards Skimbleshanks' corpse and Munkustrap shrugs him off. Munkustrap's gaze immediately darts up in my direction, bright and no less alive than when he'd first opened them this morning; though where they had been green they were now a dull blue like Mistoffelees- like _mine _had been.

"We should put him away before the others get back," Munkustrap nods to Skimbleshanks.

Tugger glances at Deuteronomy who hasn't taken his sunken eyes off of the Railway Cat. "... What about Mistoffelees? Aren't we going to go after him?!"

"No point," Munkustrap sighs airily. "If Mistoffelees couldn't stop Macavity I doubt a handful of us will."

"But he's our friend!"

_He's the least of our problems now._

"Mistoffelees is the least of our problems, Tug. Now bury Skimbleshanks before Jenny comes back; she doesn't need to see this "

Without another moment's consideration Munkustrap turns from his father and brother and stomps off, swiping his paw across his eyes when he thinks no one's watching. From where I am I watch him fling his paw from his face, wincing.

The tabby gawks when the tips of his paw comes back sparking, warm with the current of magic taking hold of his body. "Oh noo," he moans as his fur darkens and morphs beneath the trickling currents glancing across his skin and snapping off his claw tips.

It appears as though Macavity hasn't won.


End file.
